As rare as a diamond, for what was not.
As rare as a diamond, for what was not.
Captivating beyond reach…far too difficult to accept.
Each man is his own, responsible for his own choices and actions accepting consequence living out his own life. Deep within one’s own body, mind and Soul are his own reasons for pursuing a warrior life. No regrets.
This picture of (Little Man) and I took place in March of 1999 as I was deploying overseas for Operation Allied Force in Kosovo. 9/11 would soon arrive, and typical of modern warrior families, this scene would be repeated many times. Many would say my choice to pursue the warrior life came at the cost of our family. We are NOT victims, we knew exactly what we were getting involved with.
Today, my son and I are resilient and strong as a family. Gratefully, Little Man is now 16 yrs old, he has grown into a remarkable young man.
Held deep within, isn’t mine.
Video: The Edge – Love is blindness
On mind, can’t shake her free.
“Well her eyes, they’re rubies and pearls. She ain’t made like those other girls.”
Video: Black Keys – She’s long gone
Remembering, belief. Longing for Jojo.
Video: Eddie Vedder – Longing to belong
“We loved with a love that was more than love”
Edgar Allen Poe
Loving her like no other, memories fade away.
Little Man, you’re now 16, officially becoming a young man.
Hold on for the ride, life gets fast, furious, frustrating, frightening and fucking incredible from here on out!
Beyond my past, finally peace…only to find you gone.
“What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you.’
Slipped by, onward…want again.
…aiming right at you.
Days and nights of the past, today and tomorrow, yet so fast. How could they be?
Words fail to express, how Little Man you’ve made me proud. ”Decide what to be, and go be it.”
After everything I tried, I failed to sleep with her.
Looking over my medical records, she collected hand written notes from our weekly meetings. Wiping aside her dark brunette cut shoulder length hair, she adjusted her glasses, and crossed her arms covered with tattoos hidden under her blouse. The beautiful artwork spread all over her shoulders down her back wrapped around her thin frame.
To read more, click here…The Only Exception.
“She”ll tear a whole in you, one you can’t repair…but I still love her, I don’t even care…. It’s better to feel pain then nothing at all.” Lumineers
On my mind she hangs, carried from within. Onward Jojo moved forward with her own life. Left with nothing but memories and no words exchanged. She’s on my mind, prettier and more gorgeous than ever…she’s on my mind.
Duty and Loyalty
Honesty & Clarity
Honor & Justice
To fully understand the meaning and purpose of this blog, you must understand warriors, true, genuine warriors. The culture and mindset of modern-day military special operations and intelligence set in unspoken tradition, standards and thinking handed down from generation to generation, across borders from warriors to warriors all over the world. In this small and very private community, a silent code shares dictating behaviors and expectations, internally consistent values and beliefs. Known for fierce independence and autonomy, threaded throughout devotion to duty, actions and behavior prove physical strength and mental resilience, intelligence, discipline, fearlessness, self-sacrifice, loyalty and honor to the death. To learn more, read Silent Code.
She is on my mind.
This woman simply won’t allow me to break through her resistance. No matter how hard I try, my words have failed. Coming across pathetic, I’m unable to get her attention. If only she took risk.
Damn…I want to ride the bike again with Jojo. Time with her was brief yet simple, not a care in the world… just the wind in our face and roads leading nowhere. We were just alone yet together, how I want the bike and Jojo again.
Harley ride, warm Florida nights, wind in our face, silent smiles.
Blue jeans, black shirt, tanned skin, arms wrapped around pressed close.
Dark skies, stars shine white moon on high, Spectre flies by.
Bright white head light, pine trees rise in the distant.
Panhandle asphalt, parallel ocean flowed deeper into night.
Warrior life no longer a threat, more at ease I became.
Becoming closer wanting our time to be true, we’ve fallen… too far behind.
How else do I say this?
Give me the fucking woman!
She is all I ask for. Nothing else, no other demands. Not just any woman, but that woman. Her. The fucking girl who did it all to me. I’m after who she is, what she means and what she gave me. This woman wounded me nearly compromising my manhood where I beg for more of her. What does a good man have to do to get a good woman? For God’s sake, I’m a man. Patient. Resilient. Focused. Driven. Frustrated left clueless, I’m a fucking man without the fucking woman. Simple as that. Give up the resistance and come to me, life will change for the good forever. She is all I ask for.
1st collector for Linkin Park: When They Come For Me
“Yeah, I’m not a pattern to be followed, the pill I’m on is a tough one to swallow. I’m not a criminal not a role model, not a born leader I’m a tough act to follow. I am not a fortune of fame or the same person telling you to forfeit the game. I came in the ring like a dog on a chain and found out the underbelly is sicker then it seems. And it seems ugly but it can get worse. There’s even a blueprint, it’s a gift and a curse. Once you got a theory of how the thing works, everybody wants the next thing to be just like the first. And I’m not a robot I’m not a monkey I will not dance even if the beat is funky. Opposite of lazy, far from a punk, not the type to quit. Ya all better start talkin try to catch up mother fuckers!” Linkin Park, 2010
At 39, I’m at the half-way point in my life…if I’m lucky. Don’t tell me the best is behind me. There is much I want to do.
Recently I’ve been hit with reality that the youth of my days have passed, evidence in my friends and family. A once vibrant young beautiful West Virginian princess, Little Man’s mother is now heavier in weight, slower yet working harder than ever now witnessing the onset of stress related health problems. It saddens me she is not healthy, I still love her and like many others, I don’t want her to pass before me. I couldn’t stand the experience.
Not loving her in the same way, I just didn’t take time to consider how I would see life change through others. My response is sobering hesitation. It’s obvious, with my head down, I’ve been too distracted. Now, I realize 39 years have passed me by. What do I have to show for it?
What I have is my son. Friends and some family. And, my health. Finally, I have recovered my health again. I have the new business. A source of independence and perhaps a steady income.
Jojo, don’t you understand, I bet everything on you and Little Man? Don’t you know I had a plan? Almost ten years (8 yrs) of my life has been in pursuit of you following that plan. What have those years done to you? Where have you gone? Why the silence? What did I do? What didn’t I do? Starting a new improved life with you was the intent. About to turn 25, where your life has only begun, you were my reason. What we learned about each other on the Harley was enough for me to make a choice to find you again.
From the moment I chose to pursue you, resistance was all I saw, never knowing it would take me this long. My motivation was to meet you and create a new life continuing from where we left off. Not living in the past, just continuing on a path showing you all the things I had learned enjoying something new even special together. The rides on the bike may have been good, what I was about to show you, no ride could have compared.
Where did you go?
Why didn’t you let me share life with you?
You’ve been overcome by my past, now unrecognizable, you’ve forgotten what I have to give.
Just an image of something so much greater, I am not the source of what is bad in this world. Despite what the past may show, it was never me. You try walking that path.
With this second chance in life, I’m going to take it, don’t want to waste it.
Where did you go?
Did you even really love me then?
Knowing you must go, letting you go sets us both free.
Knowing that leaves me alone. Empty. Saddened. Dark. Lost. Hurt. Missing you. Wanting you. Needing you. Silence.
Not looking for a simple woman for companionship. It’s you I want. Without, I will do without.
When did you stop believing I could?
Where did you go?
Still love you now
What I write is for you to read. I write to you, show me a sign.
That important, that impressive.
On the horizons I see her, on I move.
If my voice does not break through…I will raise the voices of the world.
Beauty is the quality present in a thing or person giving intense pleasure or deep satisfaction to the mind, whether arising from sensory manifestations (as shape, color, sound, etc.), a meaningful design or pattern. Beauty’s definition can apply to art or most associated with a woman even life. What is beautiful to one person is not to the other.
The sweet smell of her perfume. Her neckline leading to her shoulders, her profile or the way she carries herself. Her femininity. Her eyes, their color, shape. How she cares for the details watching her carefully address her eye lashes and brows. How she takes forever to apply her make up every morning. The way she bends her hands at her wrist. When she admires her own jewelry, a purse, hat or the most favorite to women of all ages, their shoes. Her laughter when it may not have been funny. Her love of gossip, the taste of a dessert, skinny jeans and short shorts to surprise flowers making her friends jealous. Two hour hair cuts. Failure to understand or her love of sports. How she loves romantic films, a love story, song or dramatic TV even plays at the local theater. Wearing glasses from time to time. to her spring dress and how her long legs look amazing every time.
Her character and the rare things that upset her. How success motivate her efforts. School work, house work, on the job, in the yard even rubbing elbows with the best. Her love of Ford Mustangs and motorcycles. How she dresses for our rides on the Harley. Her courage for learning how to ride the Harley and her radiating spirit of freedom. Steadfast strength in times of adversity, yet her vulnerability. Love of family and adoration of friends. Her ankles and painted toes. The color and vitality of her skin. What she hides to later be discovered unexpectedly. The ring I want on her finger. Long phone calls, texts, blood-red painted finger nails, lipstick and a glass of wine. Her secret love and obsession for chocolate. How she brushes her hair back over her ears whether to catch my attention or to see what is in front of her. How she holds a baby on her hip just right yet manages life all around her. Despite a million responsibilities, she still manages to paint the walls in renovation of the house. Her firmness and strength defending the family.
Her taste of food and amazing ability to make anything you can imagine. Or how she makes the simplest food seem like gourmet. A night on the town, a restaurant, or together at home on the couch. Her ability to speak the language and listen to adolescents and the smallest child to the baby. The mother in her. Loyalty, patience and endurance. Her tears when she silently wants to cry. The lover in her and making love as good as the first time. Her patience, intelligence and strength. Her encouragement when the chips are down. How she smiles with energy. Her humor. Silence with her eyes closed leading me home. The feeling of her slightest breath against my skin. Her beauty.
When alone I feel nothing. With Jojo, I feel life all around me.
With Jojo I felt the greatest, she brought the best in me.
Jojo felt like taking life by the horns and going for the ride of my life.
Riding for hours at a time with her holding on is like no other. Being 14 years older and going nowhere good, steering the Softail Deuce in and out of traffic or down some backwoods path leading back to the shoreline, I was the one in control.
She was too young for me or herself.
Didn’t she want me to?
Memories at night have the speedometer highlighted in orange with the needle pushing past seventy.
As Jojo held me tight, with feet floating in the air on the foot-pegs, the “V” twin-engine hummed like a fine oiled machine between my legs. Within the piercing bright white headlight, the world would approach as we made our way to no where in particular. With asphalt passing beneath our feet, we were just with each other. All night long into the early morning, riding. The past is not what I want. Not even the same motorcycle. What I want is for the light in her not to burn out.
Tell me she will respond wanting me again.
This 2003 100th Anniversary Edition Harley Davidson Softail Deuce did it all. The very source of peace and so much conflict afterwards. My bike shared with Jojo for over nine months and 4,500 miles of riding together.
Day, night, morning or afternoon, in the surprise rain showers to blazing sun. By the Gulf Coast ocean front, to Sea Side, from Pensacola to Panama City and Destin, so many days and hours we shared on this bike. From the last ride I shared with Jojo, I sold this bike and never rode a motorcycle again. Call it grieving, call it what you want. Without this bike, Jojo and I never would have learned about each other the way we did.
Simple, complex and unique. Attractive. Intelligent. Silent, fragile yet strong. Mysterious. Independent.
Touch and feel of softness, the smell of spring. Sight of something new, yearned for when alone.
Warmth when cold, close when afar. Alive day or night, bright when our world is dark.
Gracefully balanced, peace of mind. Without a word, the very sound leading home.
She’s my reason to wake.
Prepare to Cross Over
Growing old without Jojo and Little Man is disturbing. Time doesn’t seem the same and life isn’t the best without them. The sun does not set or rise. What was beautiful before is a passing thought today. What I valued before has little to no meaning. Without them, the day doesn’t arrive new and the night doesn’t come soon enough. Watching how fast these past eight years have passed concerns me. Why do lessons learned have to be so costly? Are all these challenges meant for a purpose where so many losses and failures happen for a reason? I ask these questions because from the very start, when forced to make a choice eight years ago, I chose to pursue a good life with Little Man and Jojo, finally new warrior responsibilities. After all that I failed at, I’ve come to believe that the unhealthy thinking I may have been pursuing the next warrior life. Fact is how I couldn’t have all three. Little Man, Jojo and that life.
Today, I seriously look at life different, but I don’t. To read more, please click this link: Spitting Teeth
I did everything I could to sleep with her.
She looked over the records where her notes collected over time from our weekly meetings. Dark brunette cut shoulder length, glasses, with tattoos hidden under her blouse. The artwork spread all over her shoulders, and down her back wrapped around her thin frame. She was strong-willed with a mind like a steel trap. It was the details she craved. With severe back problems from childhood, she pushed through her hidden pain. Every month she took injections to cut the pain, only once a month would she be forced to rely on a cane. Younger than myself, I could never understand how something so irritating could happen so soon to a woman.
Posted on the walls behind her were diplomas for a Bachelors and Masters degree in social work and medical policy, a Molly Pitcher award for leading military wives at Ft. Bliss, Texas. It wasn’t only how cute she was; some of it was her intelligence, most of it was how she rebelled against the mainstream. She was a pistol, and no one fucked with her. Being the lowest pay grade on the scale, she didn’t have high-profile responsibilities.
To read more, click on this link….The Only Exception.
For her, here is Paramore’s “The only exception.” Enjoy.
Standby for a hundred questions.
What makes a relationship with a man or woman so important? Why can’t we go alone and explore living a good life alone? There are plenty of women out there. Date one here, sleep with another there, hide from the others. No, if men stayed alone, not only would we lose our mind, we wouldn’t only be unhappy. Your average man would become immature, fat, dumb, poor and out of shape. Or does that happen after you get married? Do the same things happen with women?
What I do know about men and women is when they are in their 20′s, life is proof how both men and women turn into…well, they are complicated. To read more, please click here: 20 Something, Zen and a woman.
I can’t do the talk. I can’t do a love song like the way it was meant to be. I can’t do everything but I’ll do anything for you. All I do is miss you and the way we used to be. All I do is kiss you through the bars of a rhyme. (Dire Straits)
Jojo was a good strong woman then, she’s only better now. Only once did I watch her cry. Then a second time. A third time too many. The first was not because of me. The others were. I just don’t understand why. Was it when I approached her? Did I do it wrong or was I wrong? Where did I fuck it all up? We didn’t have an argument or yell at each other. It was time pulling us apart from each other. To the point we didn’t say a word.
This is the way I understand things. Just tell me I’m not off in my own mind creating this sense of drive for each other. I felt it. I felt all of it and more and wanted more of it.
On the final night I spent all night writing my last words to Jojo. I left her behind a message telling her not to give up on me. What I couldn’t say to her face, I was forced to write in that letter. It was everything I simply couldn’t say. Telling her that no matter how long it takes to not once ever quit. As I wrote that note, I saw that approaching storm on the damned horizon. I was fucked from the beginning. No matter what happened, I wanted her to know that I had to leave. When I did, when the timing was better, I would find her again. What I could not tell her was how I had to first end the failed marriage I had with her good friend. Little Man’s mother. At no time did Jojo ask me to do anything like that. It was me. All me. At the time of that note, I made my choice to find Jojo again. The pursuit just wasn’t the right time.
The pursuit for Jojo continued through emails after emails month after month. It appeared after each email, I only got worse. Then it became a year, and another year. Jail, hospital after another, six months here, a few there. Before I knew it six, seven and now eight years have passed me by. My son grew older, so did Jojo and myself. However we all grew years apart. The two most important things in my life could not be brought together with me.
After experiencing Jojo the way I did, I wanted to give the same thing back to her. I wanted and still want to share things with her where life is mutual. Where we both give and take from each other without saying a word.
A man pursues his woman of choice until satisfied. Sometimes going through multiple partners, a hunter by trade, a man searches until he captures what he wants. Water, food, shelter and a woman. Not all in that order. He hunts for it all. Everything.
When it comes to a woman, any good man will look for a woman capturing one’s attention. For some it’s any woman. For others, searching for a specific woman. Much like a diamond, he looks for specifics like “cut, color, clarity and Carat weight.” In a woman he searches for standards. Criteria. Values. Lessons learned from the past decide who they will pursue and capture for the future.
Any good man raised well searches for what is most important in a woman. He searches for an attractive woman. That means a clean and healthy woman. Intelligent. Outgoing. Independent. Knows how to cook. Athletic maybe active with a thin to average frame. Humorous. Educated or skilled. Traits of a good mother (For my future children). Most importantly, determine whether she is a good lover. That, of all things is the most private most difficult trait to discover.
The standards are a blue print for what works best for this man. To get it right, he looks for something mutual lasting a lifetime. Ultimately, as with Jojo, the search for her takes so long, she gets better with time. She becomes a diamond in the rough.
My conflict is how Jojo once wanted me, yet now wants nothing to do with me. She introduced herself to me revealing who she is setting inside my mind a deep wish to want her in my life. Wanting to one day start a new life with her growing old together. Jojo met every standard and criteria I had set in my mind for women.
Due to my choices, forced to leave Jojo, I’ve carried hopes one day our paths would intersect again. Making all the right choices, I shouldn’t have saw this refusal of hers to communicate. Somewhere something went wrong, just don’t know where or what. Ever since, my criteria, values and standards haven’t been met yet. Without Jojo in my life, I care about no other woman. From this point on, to the end, I’m ready to never see her again and ride out this life alone.
I find myself day dreaming about the bike and Jojo. If I could have one moment with her and talk to Jojo, what I would say to her is…
“Not once have I quit on you. What felt like a lifetime…You are the one woman I cannot live without.”
“Jojo…I love you.”
Leaning forward-looking at her with her eyes still closed, placing my hands on either sides of her face. Looking more closely at her staring at her beauty the attraction fuels growing stronger as I approach her. With her lips partially closed, I feel her peaceful breath against my face as I lean into kiss her even embracing her.